In 2013 I was asked by Jonny Johansson and his team at Acne Studios to come up with a concept for a store in Seoul. Back then, I’d been to Japan a lot. I’d been to China quite a lot. And I’d been to Seoul once before – but in the ’90s, when things were run by men in grey suits. And then there was a change. By the time I arrived to create a building for the Swedish fashion brand, Seoul was all zhuzhy. Fun was exploding. On a Friday evening at 5.30, the streets were full of action: people meeting, chatting, going to bars and restaurants. There were department stores with the most gorgeous food halls selling delicious-looking lollipops of frozen strawberries. It had become a slightly bonkers version of Japanese perfection – more outgoing, a little bit more eccentric.
What I quickly learnt was that up until as recently as the 1970s, much of Gangnam was still farmland. I always stay at the Grand Hyatt on the top of the hill. It’s got an incredible view down to the river and across to Gangnam – it’s packed with cars, with bridges, with tall buildings; it’s so full. I look down and think: “That was farmland 50 years ago? That is insane.” Understanding the way the city developed, the speed with which it developed, and the very openness of the people, made me realise what an extraordinary place it is.
